Every Human Law
by The Penguin Ate My Homework
Summary: Well, the song does say that he's broken EVERY human law...
1. Laws 1 to 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own CATS, Macavity the character, or Macavity the song. I also don't own any of the laws mentioned. If I did, they wouldn't exist.**

**Warning(s): This fic is the product of an insane mind, too many times listening to the song _Macavity_, and reading lists of stupid laws over and over and over again. You have been warned. Much of the action focuses on two characters of my own creation. You have been warned again. Also, there is some mention of corpses, and the creation/disposal/retrieval of corpses. You have been warned _yet again_. So don't say I didn't warn you, because clearly I have.**

**That said, enjoy the fic!**

* * *

The unconscious form of Phobos slid to the ground, and Deimos almost envied him. Almost, because although he was now relieved from having to explain himself to the Mystery Cat in front of them, he would have one hell of a migraine tomorrow. No one could give a fist to the head quite like Macavity.

"Now," the Napoleon of Crime said calmly, as if he hadn't just KO'd one of his henchcats, "explain to me what your partner meant by what he said."

Deimos swallowed loudly, and Macavity's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He didn't like to see those in his employ betray fear, even to him. It was a sign of weakness, and he simply wouldn't tolerate it. Normally the cat would have been rewarded by a fist to the stomach, perhaps even with claws, but right now he needed this particular cat.

Besides. Even if it did show weakness, it _was_ amusing to watch them squirm.

"He, ah…he only meant that, well, you haven't, you know…" Deimos struggled to find the words that wouldn't cause him pain, "since…well, the humans come up with such ridiculous laws sometimes, no one really cares about them so it would be stupid to actually try to break them…I mean, not stupid!" he amended hastily, noting the less-than-pleased look on the boss's face. "Just…not worth the time of such an important, busy cat like yourself?" The last sentence came out as more of a question. It took all of Deimos's willpower to get it out at all, and he waited silently for the ginger cat's reply.

To his immense relief, the Mystery Cat simply smirked. It was a dangerous look, of course (the black tom was beginning to think that Macavity was incapable of any look that _wasn't_ dangerous in some way; perhaps it was because he was always on the verge of shifting into an insane rage), but less dangerous than, say, outright anger or scorn. He wouldn't be killed. Deimos allowed himself to relax a little.

But only a little. After all, he was still facing Macavity.

"You do have a point, Deimos," Macavity said smoothly, "The humans do come up with laws that have no real meaning sometimes. But then you say that endeavoring to break these laws is not worth my time. That is where you are wrong."

The ginger cat turned his back on the two large, pitch black toms (one unconscious and one nervous), pacing towards the far end of the alley they were currently occupying. His tail swished from side to side, his ears turning in every direction. One paw smoothed out his whiskers, and he let the silence hang for a few minutes before he returned to his former position.

"The song clearly states that I've broken _every_ human law. To have this be less than true…it is unacceptable. I suppose we can leave those idiotic Jellicles to themselves for a while; who knows, perhaps they'll let down their guard and believe I've given up. We leave tomorrow."

Had he been in the employ of any other cat, Deimos might have asked where they were going. However, he was not in the employ of any other cat; he was working for Macavity, the Mystery Cat, the Hidden Paw, the Napoleon of Crime, the Whatever-Other-Name-He's-Going-By, and one didn't just ask Macavity to clarify a statement if one wished to remain alive. So he fell silent and prayed that wherever they were going would have a bit more sun than London.

All the rain was really getting irritating.

* * *

"By the way, Deimos, did I ever thank you for sticking up for me in that alley?"

"Stuff it, then get over here and help me out, Phobos." Deimos was _not_ in any mood to be dealing with his partner's sarcasm. He pulled on the rope with all of his strength, but still wasn't able to budge what was on the other end.

"I'm just saying. It would have been nice to have some backup when the Boss was punching my lights out. Y'know, a quick word in there: 'Hey, he didn't mean that in a _bad_ way, y'know.' Nothing too big, just a little support there." Phobos leaned casually against the wall, watching the other cat struggle. He _could_ have stepped in to help, but that would have taken all the fun out of the taunting. At least this way he was sure the message would get through to Deimos.

"If you don't get over here and _help_, we'll never get this out of here and the Boss'll have _both_ our hides!" Deimos finally shouted in frustration, prompting the larger cat (by one centimeter exactly, they had measured) to finally go in to help. Rather than grabbing onto the rope with Deimos, however, he opted to go around the back of the desired object and slash at it with his claws.

The mule's response was to shoot out his hind legs and then dart forward, dragging Deimos along with him.

Phobos stared after the two disappearing around the corner of the barn, then shrugged. At least it was moving.

Two hours, several poorly-aimed kicks and one well-aimed kick (to Deimos's shin), and many, many curse words not suitable for this rating later, Deimos and Phobos presented Macavity with one mule, its eyes wide with fright and pain. This was probably due to the many claw marks running along its body and the crazy look on the faces of the henchcats.

Macavity took no notice to any of these. As long as he had the mule.

"Wonderful," he said without any real emotion, simply turning away, "now bring it down to that lake there and we'll see what it can do."

Deimos and Phobos exchanged a _look_. Then they got to work coaxing (by way of hissing, snarling, biting, and scratching) the mule down to the lake.

Later on, residents of Indiana would notice a rather…odd sight. Encouraged by two rabid-looking black cats lunging at its flanks, and watched by a calm ginger cat up on the shore, a mule charged into a little lake with its eyes locked onto a duck sitting on the water. At the prompting of the black cats, the mule clamped its teeth down onto the duck, shaking its head to the sound of frantic quacking. It was a sight no one would forget for quite some time.

Macavity, lounging up on the shore, simply smirked. One down.

_Law Number One: The state game rule prohibits the use of mules to hunt ducks. (Indiana)_

* * *

"If I have to deal with another mule, I swear, I'll—"

"You'll what? Take it up with Macavity?" Deimos snorted. "You'll do exactly what he says, that's what you'll do."

Phobos looked insulted. "Hey, so would you!"

His partner nodded. "Never said I wouldn't. Both of us would, you know that. The only difference is, I'm smart enough not to complain about things where the Boss might hear."

Phobos almost looked like he was going to protest, but then nodded and conceded the point. That was true enough.

The henchcats were back in the barn, having returned the "borrowed" mule to its rightful owners. None of the humans were sure why the mule was so clawed up, or why it wouldn't allow any cats near it…

Now Phobos and Deimos were awaiting the arrival of Macavity. And had been for over an hour and a half. If there was one good thing to say about the Napoleon of Crime, it was that he was always punctual. Anyone bringing up that point, however, would also have to say that he was often _early_, and that anyone arriving after he may be severely punished. Two henchcats were expendable enough anyway.

Finally the ginger cat arrived, and neither black cat made any reference to their long wait. That would be suicide. Macavity eyed the two, standing at attention and each trying to look taller than the other, before nodding slightly.

"Good, you're on time," he stated. "Well, we have much to do. You will need wheelbarrows, of course, and perhaps pitchforks…although those _would_ be difficult for you to use. Much too big. Hmm. You'll just have to manage with the wheelbarrows, and do without the pitchforks, I suppose." There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he said this, and Phobos and Deimos shared a fearful, dreading look. Something told them they would not enjoy this…

'Something' was right. Standing on a street corner later that day, stinking of manure and appearing more brown than black, the two cats eyed a seven-foot tall pile of horse manure warily. Macavity, perfectly clean other than the dusty coat he always sported (for dramatic effect, he said, although some thought he was too lazy to clean himself), nodded in a pleased way.

"Good," he muttered to himself, "that's two."

_Law Number Two: It is illegal to pile horse manure more than six feet high on a street corner. (California)_

* * *

"_THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA!_" Phobos shouted from the other side of the fence. Deimos grinned and leaned against the wood.

"Sorry, Phobe, you know the rules. The Boss decides what we do."

"_THEN WHY AREN'T YOU OVER HERE DOING THIS!?_" came the screamed reply. Deimos's grin only widened; his partner's voice reached very high pitches when he was scared.

"We flipped a coin, didn't we? Heads won. I won." The black tom didn't think it would be wise to mention the "special" coin he had found, with 'heads' on each side. It was Phobos's own fault for not checking, anyway.

"_THIS IS BOTH OUR JOB, AND YOU SH—AGH!_" Phobos cut off with a pained yell, and Deimos sighed.

"Fine, fine, I'm coming over," he called, leaping easily from the ground, to a garbage can, to the top of the fence. He then nimbly jumped down, gaining the attention of all seven occupants immediately. One was Phobos dangling a steak in front of himself, and the other six were dogs.

The dogs noted a few things in quick succession. First, he was a cat. Second, he looked remarkably similar to the black cat they had been playing with for the past few minutes (only about a centimeter shorter). Third, he had no food for them.

He did, however, have a silent dog whistle. With a smile much to cheerful for one seeing his close friend being torn apart by dogs, he took his sweet time in placing earplugs in his ears, then gave the whistle a hearty blow. The effect was immediate.

"_EVERLASTING CAT, DEIMOS! YOU COULDN'T GIVE ME A LITTLE WARNING!?_" Phobos shouted over the howling of dogs, paws clamped over his ears. Deimos wordlessly handed Phobos an extra set of plugs, a few moments too late. The other cat took them with a scathing look, and made sure that he scraped his claws along the arm that offered the plugs.

Deimos didn't say a thing or even flinch at it. That was expected.

Macavity strolled in a moment later, his ears also plugged. He eyed the whimpering dogs, then nodded—an action which was starting to annoy the two henchcats. Especially as it usually meant more work was to follow.

"Now let us move these out to the street," he ordered, pointing to the pile of dogs. "This would be pointless without witnesses."

In just a few minutes, the pile had been shifted from a dim back-alley to the broad daylight of a busy street. Humans passing by stared at the dogs curiously, but they had recovered quickly from the whistle and were now sitting up, staring docilely at Phobos and Deimos. Stares only grew more incredulous as Macavity came out of the alley with a large textbook pushed before him, moved in front of the dogs, and opened the book.

"Right," he began, eyeing his students with distaste. "Let us begin with ancient Egypt…"

_Law Number Three: You may not educate dogs. (Connecticut)_

* * *

"Okay, this job isn't as bad as the other ones," Phobos commented happily as he trotted alongside Deimos. The other black cat looked at him with a grin.

"I agree with that, but some people would say that you're insane," he replied. Phobos laughed out loud.

"Yeah, right. I've been kicked at by mules, carried an enormous pile of horse manure to a street corner without any tools, and been attacked by dogs, all in the past three days. And you're telling me that digging up some dead guy's body is worse than that?" He laughed again, flicking his tail dismissively. Deimos shrugged.

"I'm not saying that. I'd rather be doing this than all that again—even though I didn't have to deal with the dogs," he added mockingly, ignoring Phobos's angry hiss. "But some people look at digging up corpses like it's disgusting."

Macavity, out of sight of the two but still within hearing range (as he often was—he found that it kept his henchcats in line if they never knew where he was, but only that he might be hearing them at that moment), snorted. Digging up corpses wasn't something they had done before, but _burying_ them was something they had experience enough in. Making them was also part of their expertise.

As it turned out, digging up the corpse wasn't the hard part. It took a while, but the cats were resourceful, and had the constant threat of punishment by Macavity should they take too long. Before dawn, there was a corpse staring up at the sky for the first time in…well, too long. None of the three were affected by the appearance of it, really. But Phobos and Deimos were suddenly sick, thinking about how they were supposed to move it six feet up to the surface…

That took three hours to figure out, and by the end of it, the two were eager to clean themselves off. And wash their mouths out. And do something, _anything_ to get the scent of rotting flesh off of them. Looking at bodies, burying bodies, wasn't bad at all compared to digging up and moving half-rotted bodies. The only thing that kept them going was the thought of Macavity having two new henchcats to bury their own bodies.

Noon that day, police entered a dingy alley, following the signs posted all along the street. Even without the signs, they probably would have gone into the alley anyway; the stench was overwhelming. When they got there, they found the body of a long-dead man, two grimy black cats hissing furiously and attempting to clean themselves off without using their tongues, and a ginger cat regarding them without any real interest. Above the scene was another sign:

"Corpse for Sale. Price negotiable."

_Law Number Four: You may not sell dead people for money without a license._

* * *

**A/N: You can't tell me you've never thought of this. You just can't. Or, you can, and I won't believe it.**

**The source of these laws was .**

**I might add more if I can think of something good enough, but don't count on it. It might just stay a one-shot.**

**Reviews will make me go "EEEEEEEEEEEE!" very loudly and kill the hearing of anyone near me in joy!**


	2. Laws 5 to 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own CATS, Macavity the character, or Macavity the song. I also don't own any of the laws mentioned.**

**Warning(s): See the first chapter for the warnings, only replace "corpses, and the…of corpses." with "the molesting of butterflies."**

* * *

"Y'know, it'd be real nice to have a job where we wouldn't have to do stupid things like this! Where we could just sit behind a nice desk, maybe takin' a message for the Boss once in a while—No, Macavity's not here right now, you want to tell him something? You tell it to me, then, and I'll pass it on to him without worryin' about havin' my head taken off! Something like that, y'know? Just—"

"Pollicles, Phobos, shut up!" Deimos snarled, ears flattening against his head. "Rumpus, if you'd quit complaining and just _work_ more, we might actually get out of this with just a few little bruises!"

"Who's complaining?" Phobos asked, insulted. "I was just sayin'—"

"Whatever you've been _saying_, you've been _saying_ it for the past five hours! I stopped listening four hours and fifty-nine minutes ago. So _shut it_ already!"

Miffed, Phobos fell silent.

The two were back on the job after—well, after no break at all, but they liked to pretend sometimes that they worked a job that had actual vacations or time to get over their various wounds. Then again, if Macavity gave his agents time off any time they acquired an injury, his workers would be off the job five times more than they were on the job.

Macavity chose that moment to stroll by.

He eyed their acquisition with approval, nodding his head once and turning away. "Very good. Now, you have the directions I asked you to get?"

Mutely, Phobos and Deimos nodded, Deimos producing a map with a tear going down one road—his version of drawing a line on a map to show directions. The gash in the paper started at the very spot they were standing, ending a few streets over. Macavity studied the map intently and sighed.

"Deimos, I believe you have chosen the long route. It would be _much_ easier to go from here…" He punched an additional hole in the map, right next to the start of the first gash. "…down this road." He dragged his claw down the map, tearing a line in a straighter path to the destination point. Deimos gulped, then nodded.

"Of course, sir," he said, turning in the direction Macavity had indicated on the map and motioning for Phobos to follow him. Macavity held up a paw.

"Ah," he said calmly, "but that was the way you had chosen. There must have been a reason. Let us take that road instead…or, rather, you take that road, and I will meet you there. I expect you to arrive before myself, since your road was more desirable to you." Macavity strolled off again, but this time with a sense of purpose. Deimos and Phobos looked at each other in panic. How were they going to manage that?

A few minutes later, visitors to the zoo turned and stared as a kangaroo hopped past them as if its tail was on fire. And, in fact, it was. In its pouch were too angry-looking black cats, hissing and yanking on a rope around the kangaroo's neck to turn it in the desired direction any time they needed to.

As it turned out, the cats and the kangaroo turned up at their destination a full eleven minutes and thirty-six seconds before Macavity. The ginger cat frowned when he appeared.

"Ah. I see you were on time," he said, clearly showing disappointment. Then he shrugged, over his disappointment already. "Well, let us finish this so we can move on."

Macavity took hold of the rope, leading the traumatized kangaroo with ease into the barber shop. Perhaps it knew better than to disobey the Hidden Paw. In any case, the resident barber looked curiously over at the ginger cat and its companion, not even noticing the two beat-up black cats trailing in behind them. Things only got stranger when the ginger cat shoved the kangaroo forward with a yowl, clearly demanding a haircut for the creature.

_Law Number Five: Kangaroos are not allowed in barber shops at any time. (Alaska)_

* * *

Deimos and Phobos snarled, baring their glistening white teeth, sharp and deadly. They unsheathed their claws, fur raising all along their backs. The two enormous black cats were almost synchronized in their threats, something that made it somehow even more terrifying. Humans around them backed away nervously.

The subject of their threatening simply blinked and yawned.

The black cats dove for cover.

"This is _insane_," Phobos whined, peeking up over the bench they had hidden behind anxiously. "I can't decide which is worse, trying for this thing or disobeying Macavity!"

"Oh, is that so?" The two black cats shot up into the air, yowling as a clawed paw came down on the backs of their heads, slashing. They slowly turned, and there stood Macavity, somehow managing to look both livid and gleeful at the same time.

On the one hand, his henchcats were considering disobeying him. On the other hand, he got to beat them now.

"You two are pathetic. You cannot do something this simple for me? All I ask is that you acquire this one object for me today. You need not bring it anywhere or do anything with it. All you need is to get it outside for me. Is that so hard?"

Slowly, the two black cats shook their heads. Macavity sighed. Well, he would still punish them later.

"Good. Now, go do it before I lose my temper."

Once the Napoleon of Crime was gone, Deimos turned on Phobos with a hiss. "Nice going, you idiotic Pollicle! Now he's mad, and we're _both_ going to pay for it later, and we _still_ have to deal with this thing!"

"Shut it, Deimos, it's not like you haven't gotten us into trouble before," Phobos growled back at him sulkily, rubbing his paw on the back of his head and noting that it came away bloody. Unsurprisingly.

"Let's just get this over with," Deimos said, grabbing the enormous collar and leash that he had been dragging around all day. The two advanced on the cage, snarling and hissing, but more intimidated by their sleepy target than he was by them.

An hour later, two battered and bloody black cats dropped to the floor, having had a thorough beating by two creatures that day—by their Boss, of course, but first by the lion that he had at his side. The ginger cat was smiling fondly at the giant tan, maned creature.

"I believe I quite like this creature," he said, then turned and began to walk with the leash in hand. The lion, Deimos and Phobos noted with distaste, followed complacently.

_Law Number Six: One may not walk a lion, tiger, or leopard, even on a leash. (West Virginia)_

* * *

"Pollicles! These assignments are getting ridiculous!" Deimos hissed, pausing to throw a glare at the human driving the truck they had…commandeered. The human gulped and looked forward resolutely. The many gashes and scratches on his face were very obvious from any angle. Two enormous black cats sat on the passenger seat to the truck that had formerly carted around food to grocery stores. A ginger cat was behind the driver's seat, on a pile of cushions the other two had dragged there.

And the reason the human was driving cats where they pleased? The rather large lion that occupied the floor beneath the passenger seat, which would every now and then reach over to bat at the driver's feet.

Phobos hissed again, jumping onto the driver's knees and swiping at his right hand. The driver took that as his hint to turn right.

Deimos smirked. "Well, one thing to say about these human drivers: they're easily trained."

Phobos snorted, going back to his seat next to his partner. "Mufasa might have been a help in that," he said, nodding towards the lion, which did not appreciate its new name, showing this with a growl. Deimos grinned.

"Mufasa, Mufasa, Mufasa!" he yelled, and the lion let out a snarl, swiping at Deimos's tale. The black cat yowled and jumped out of reach, but not before he got a rear full of claws. Bleeding, the cat hissed at the lion, but didn't say anything else. Phobos snorted again.

"Let's leave the lion alone, shall we? And quoting childish Disney movies does not give on the appearance desired of one of my employees," came Macavity's calm voice from the backseat.

Any further conversation was interrupted by a loud yowl coming from Phobos, who jumped to the human's lap once again and dug his claws into both hands. The human howled in pain, slamming his foot on the brakes and sending the truck to a screeching halt. Tending to his wounds, the driver didn't notice how, exactly, the cats managed to open the doors or unload their cargo, only that once the lion was out of the car, he was free to go.

Now in the middle of a highway, and blocking traffic, the three cats advanced menacingly on their cargo with claws out. The lion watched lazily; male lions never hunted. And besides, a lion's natural prey did not include whales. He let the three cats do their work while horrified spectators looked on.

_Law Number Seven: It is considered an offense to hunt whales. (Utah)_

* * *

A little brunette girl ran down the street, giggling and shrieking with laughter. Rainbows of light danced over the pavement in the puddles, and the sun was just beginning to peek out from over the clouds. It was the perfect day for playing. The child ran from puddle to puddle, skipping over some and splashing into others. She ran to take a flying leap over a particularly large one—

—only to be hit in mid-air by a flying, ginger-furred blur.

As the little girl sat crying in the middle of the puddle, dripping wet, two black cats looked at each other in shock. Phobos was the first to speak.

"Now that's just plain mean."

_Law Number Eight: It is illegal to try and stop a child from playfully jumping over puddles of water. (California)_

* * *

"See, why can't we do more stuff like this, and less like…like…"

"Like the lion thing?"

"Yeah, like the Mufasa thing." A roar of displeasure had the two black cats flinching. Deimos glared at Phobos.

"I wish you would stop calling the lion Mufasa. He doesn't like it, and he's going to kill you."

"Aw, Deim, I didn't realize you cared," Phobos said mockingly. Deimos laughed shortly.

"I don't. But if you kick it, the only one to deal with Macavity will be _me_." As he said this, Deimos looked around warily. Macavity was always around when anyone said anything against him—but this time, he didn't seem to be. Strange.

But then, he couldn't see the lion either, and they'd heard it roar just a few seconds ago. Deimos shook his head. Paranoia was getting to him.

The black cats started to drag the bag they were holding towards the middle of the street, not even flinching as cars roared around them when they settled right on the divider. Car horns beeped in an attempt to scare them off, but neither of the tomcats paid that any mind. They were waiting for their Boss, and he had told them to wait in that exact spot; they weren't about to move an inch from there.

"You're off by an inch," Macavity said, suddenly behind them and glaring at them in anger. Deimos and Phobos moved to the side an inch, and the Hidden Paw looked appeased. For now.

"You have the items I asked for you to acquire?" he questioned, although it wasn't really a true question. He already knew the answer. Or, rather, he already knew what the answer had better be, or there would be two heads rolling down the center of the road within five seconds.

"Yes," Phobos said, motioning to the bag, then thinking better and opening it to display the contents to Macavity. The Mystery Cat peered inside and nodded.

"Good," he said, always calm. "Let's get to work."

Down the road, a man was speeding in his rush to get to work on time. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, pressing down on the gas a little harder. Suddenly, in front of him, there were a few cats. He scowled, inching over on the road so he would miss them, but just barely. Might as well give 'em a little scare.

Suddenly, things burst from the cats! The man swerved out of the way, hitting a lamppost and wrecking his car. The airbag deployed and his face smashed into it painfully, but without injury. When the emergency responders arrived, they looked quizzically around the scene. There was no sign of the cats the man had said he'd seen, but there were an assortment of strange objects scattered all along the road. Little bits of confetti still drifted down from where they'd gotten stuck on wires and in trees.

_Law Number Nine: It is against the law to throw confetti, rubber balls, feather dusters, whips or quirts (riding crop), and explosive firecrackers of any kind. (Texas)_

* * *

"This is disturbing."

"I know."

"I mean, _really_ disturbing."

"I _know_."

"I mean, really, seriously, deeply disturbing."

"_I know_!"

"I mean—" Deimos tuned Phobos out at this point. He was having enough trouble keeping his eyes away from the horrifying sight in front of him (it just drew the eyes the same way a car accident did—you didn't want to look, but you just couldn't help it) without his partner's stupid babbling in his ears.

Well. One thing was for sure. He would never look at the Napoleon of Crime the same way again.

_Law Number Ten: It is illegal to molest butterflies. (California)_

* * *

**A/N:** So, here we have a second chapter. Finally. In my defense, the first chapter took much, much, much longer to write (no, I'm not kidding. It really did). Actually, to be perfectly honest, three-fourths of the time is spent _thinking_ about writing, and only one-fourth is actually spent doing the writing. Sorry. It's just the way I am. Plus I'm working on another story, one which I'm really getting into, so that takes up a lot of writing time, too.

Sorry for the shortness of a few—I felt they would be more effective shorter (I swear it wasn't laziness, I really thought it would be better shorter. Really).

Thanks to all my reviewers, especially those of you who gave me ideas! (You know who you are!)

By the way. If you haven't seen the 1986 music video of the Rum Tum Tugger yet, you have not lived life to its fullest. Go watch it on YouTube, just look up "Rum Tum Tugger music video". Trust me. I couldn't stop laughing hysterically at the whole 80's feel of the thing.


	3. Laws 11 to 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Cats the Musical. I **_**do**_** own Deimos, Phobos, and this story.**

**Warnings: I think if you've made it this far, we're good. But in any case, take the warning from the first chapter, and replace "some mention...of corpses" with "some violence, blood, one case of (reluctantly) self-inflicted wounds, and one swear word."**

**

* * *

**

"I _told_ you! I told you, I told you, _I told you!_"

"Yeah, Pho, I get it. You told me."

"Yeah, I _told you_! What did I tell you? C'mon, Deim, _what did I tell you_?"

"Can you just drop it already? We're in agreement here. This is completely and entirely my fault. Now _shut it_!"

"Fine, fine. But I _tol_—"

"Basements, you Pollicle! I said shut it!" Deimos snarled at his partner, who merely snickered and shook his head. The two were limping their slow way down a busy street, ignoring the blood dripping down their flanks. Deimos was in a decidedly bad mood, but Phobos was positively cheerful, despite the beating they'd gotten from the Boss just minutes ago.

"Ha! For once it's _me_ that was right and _you_ that was wrong! I told you, I said, I said that truck'd be no good, but no, you were just so sure that it didn't matter—"

"Just drop it, Phobos!" Deimos hissed again, ears flattened against his head and fur standing straight out in all directions. Phobos chuckled now, and the sound was eerily like that of Macavity. Evidently he'd noticed, because he stopped immediately and shivered.

"Gotta step spending so much time around the Boss," he muttered, and the two continued on in silence while Phobos considered his similarities to the Boss. Deimos, for his part, was just relieved that the other cat had finally stopped gloating.

Just a minute later, they came upon a car parked on the street. It was no different from the dozens they had passed before, save for the human that was busily loading the purchases from some shopping trip into the car. The two black cats sat on the sidewalk and waited next to it.

But they didn't wait long. Macavity appeared just moments later.

Neither cared to find out just how he'd done that with such perfect timing.

The ginger cat looked over the car, which was dirty enough for someone to had written, "Wash Me!" in the window (there were also several more, somewhat inappropriate phrases decorating the glass, but those cannot be reprinted here). His lip curled back with distaste, but he nodded.

"Suitable," was his decision, and without hesitation hopped into the backseat without the human noticing. The two black toms followed.

Soon the car was on its way, the driver happily oblivious to her three passengers. Once they were on the road, a ginger paw reached out to roll down the back window, and Macavity leaned out—

_Law Number Eleven: Though it is illegal to spit from a car or bus, citizens may spit from a truck (Marietta, Georgia)._

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* * *

_

Humans congregated in the tall building, seating themselves either silently or quietly. Eventually a slow procession began to move its way up the long aisle, carrying the various trinkets that were so essential to this place.

One human did a double take as he passed an aisle. There were many things wrong with the picture in front of him, and the fact that there were three cats seated on the pew was only one of them.

The moustaches that all three wore was just one more thing, and the fact that the ginger cat seated in between the two much larger blacks was giving him a look that made the man shudder in fear was just another (albeit a rather frightening oddity).

But the procession was moving on, and the man shook his head and attributed it all to eccentric parishioners. Eccentric parishioners with rather frightening cats.

The ginger cat sighed in frustration. "Damn. Not even a chuckle."

The two blacks eyed each other, and both had to suppress their own giggles at the sight of the other tom. With their black fur, and the black hair of the fake moustaches, it looked as if the facial hair was natural. And they had to admit it: neither of them looked good with a moustache.

But Macavity had already made it perfectly clear that _their_ laughter did not count in this assignment, and was in fact very annoying to him.

Macavity had apparently made up his mind about what to do, though, and he abruptly sprang up. The Hidden Paw landed nimbly on the back of the pew, startling the family seated behind them. The mother gasped in surprise, the father widened his eyes, but the little girl let loose a high-pitched round of giggles.

Macavity smirked and jumped down, sauntering out of the church with his two henchcats at his back.

Now that the assignment was over, they felt it was safe to let loose their own laughter.

They were wrong.

_Law Number Twelve: It is illegal to wear a fake moustache that causes laughter in church (Alabama)._

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_

"This was an awful idea."

"_Quiet_!"

"A stupid, stupid idea. _Rumpus_, where he comes up with this stuff—"

"Do you _want_ to get us both killed? Is that it? _Shut up_!"

"What? It's not like he can—"

"Hear you?" Phobos nearly jumped five feet into the air—or would have, if he hadn't been enclosed in a barrel. As it was, he merely hissed and leaped up, slamming the top of his head into the wall of the barrel. Deimos laughed mockingly until the barrel began rolling, at which point it was necessary to concentrate on not being thrown about.

Concentration didn't help too much, though, and soon the barrel was filled with curses in addition to the two large black cats. Macavity rolled his eyes. Well, all the bouncing about in the barrel wouldn't harm their mental capacity, at least; he doubted they had enough to be harmed if they couldn't figure out that he could still hear them through the wood.

Honestly. He needed to get smarter henchcats, and soon.

But then, these were rather useful for mindlessly obeying orders.

With a final heave, Macavity sent the barrel spinning down a steep hill, trotting lazily after it and watching with amusement as pedestrians and cars scurried out of the way, then turned to stare.

_Law Number Thirteen: It is illegal to roll a barrel on any street; fines go up according to the contents of the barrel (Pensacola, Florida)._

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* * *

_

The two black cats stood staring, or more accurately, glaring at each other. One, larger by about a centimeter, hissed suddenly, breaking the five-minute-long staring contest that had been going on. The ginger cat nearby, surprisingly and uncharacteristically patient for once, merely rolled his eyes and sat back to wait.

"This is stupid, Deim! I won. You lost. So go do it!"

"Wonderful use of logic, Phobos," Macavity drawled, and both Deimos and Phobos started. "Deimos? I do believe he is correct."

"But, er—does it really count? For you to break this law, I mean?" Deimos questioned nervously, wondering belatedly if he was just making things worse by procrastinating. But Macavity's strange, tolerant mood continued on.

"Yes, I believe it does. After all, you are in my employ. And if I had asked you to commit murder, and you did, would it not be my responsibility?" He smirked, standing and stretching. "So, I believe you have a job to do now."

Phobos grinned at Deimos, gaining himself a growl in reply. Then Deimos drew in a breath, resigning himself to his fate. Really, if he thought about it, it wasn't that bad compared to the pain he'd had to put up with in the past.

But then, it was the thought that it was only _him_ doing it, when he would have rather liked to watch Phobos do it instead. (If he were another cat, he might have felt guilty for wanting to see his 'friend' hurt like this, but he knew fully well that Phobos would enjoy watching him do this very, very much.)

He took in another breath, and—

He reflected later that maybe it wasn't so bad. The woman who had picked him up was cooing over him, which was annoying, but she had given him a large bowl of food and water (cream would have been preferable, but he did appreciate a bit of clean water), bandaged his wounds, and was currently rubbing her hands over him in a way he very much liked.

Deimos pretended not to see Phobos waiting impatiently outside the window.

_Law Number Fourteen: It is illegal to stab yourself to gain someone's pity (Alabama)._

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* * *

_

"Three thousand seventy-two, three thousand seventy-three, three thousand seventy-four…" Phobos counted aloud as he went through the flock, marking off each individual with a red marker as he saw them. Finally, he seemed to have found every pure white coat and marked it, and sighed in relief. Now for the fun part…

"'Ey Deim! Ready now!" he yelled, and a streak of black darted through the white sea, startling the sheep into frightened 'baa's. Admittedly, the frightened 'baa's weren't much different from the bored 'baa's, the hungry 'baa's, the angry 'baa's, or the tired 'baa's, but Phobos assumed they were frightened judging by the way they charged in the opposite direction of the running black cat.

Deimos came to a stop next to Phobos, grinning. "How many was it?"

"Three thousand eighty-one," Phobos replied immediately, his voice a little hoarse.

"Didn't know you could count that high," Deimos remarked off-handedly, dodging a half-hearted swipe from his partner.

"Let's just get to this already," he said, eager to get going. Deimos nodded, turning and running off towards the back of the flock. Phobos chased after him, and a few moments later, they were off.

Screams preceded them as pedestrians and drivers realized exactly what it was coming their way. Sheep were not normally something to be frightened of, but a flock of over three thousand was quite terrifying when it came charging at you full speed. Especially when you were on Hollywood Boulevard, and not expecting anything more dangerous than a swarm of paparazzi running you down.

At the back were three cats, driving the sheep forward by slashing and biting at their legs.

Phobos turned to Deimos after just a few minutes of this. "Now _this_ is fun."

Macavity rolled his eyes and made a mental note to find henchcats with a slightly higher level of intelligence than the sheep, as soon as this endeavor was over.

_Law Number Fifteen: It is illegal to drive more than two thousand sheep down Hollywood Boulevard at one time (Hollywood, California)._

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**A/N:** I felt it was time to update this story.

Also I was very bored and had nothing to do but look up more stupid laws. And now I'm very bored and have nothing to do but write (cleaning does not count as something to do, even though it needs to be done). And so I have five more laws in the works now, as well as a multi-chapter story that began as a drabble and took off from there, which may or may not be up on this website soon. Yay.

The editor hates my line breaks, so that's why I had to do it this way. It was frustrating.

I'll stop now. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Update (Two Years Later): Had to fix some formatting for this chapter...thank you to Iamtwilight for pointing out the lack of line breaks! ... Looking at the A/N from two years ago, I wonder why I didn't notice anything wrong with this chapter. Hmm. Apparently I thought I had fixed it, but that didn't work...ah well. Fixed now!


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